The Captain
by VintagePen
Summary: On the month of Wendy's betrothal to a Oliver Cole, she is suddenly captured and returned to Neverland by the infamous Captain Hook. Wendy is disgusted by her captor and relies on the boy with red hair to save her and bring her to a life of freedom. But, she gets to know the real Captain Hook. Who is he? A murderer? A thief? A prince in disguise? (This is a Wendy x C. Hook story)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This is my story of Wendy x Capt. Hook! In this story Wendy is about 22 years old and the time period is the Edwardian Era. I hope you guys enjoy the story as much as I do! I will try to update on a weekly basis! Please read and review! Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 1<p>

_A cool breeze blows fiercely through her body. The shouting of men roar in her ears as the tremble of their stomps shake her being. She lies on the wet hard wood of the ground below her. Chanting seagulls could be heard in the distance. A chill courses down her spine as a whirl of dark shapes graze by her. Water is being sprayed in all directions soaking her face as her vision is blurred. She can feel her body being rocked back and forth as if someone is lulling her to sleep. A coat in deep red is whizzing by her vision. Her lips part but no sound comes forth. Muffled noises ring throughout the air._

"_Wendy!__"_

"_Wendy!__"_

I am suddenly shaken from my reverie as I lift my head. I blink my eyes in the blinding light of the chandelier. The fuzzy images of my daydream disappear. It takes me awhile to establish my surroundings and recognize where I am exactly. I am in the house of my tutor. I look up to the angry look of my tutor, Mr. Hutton.

"Miss Darling! Please pay attention!" He said with a stern tone of voice. He tapped his pointing stick on my book. "Now as I was saying, Aristotle had six components of a play. Can you please tell me what they are and define each term."

I quickly scanned my eyes across the page to find the answers. Once I had found what I was looking for, I cleared my throat. "The six components are plot, character, theme, language, rhythm, and spectacle."

"Good, please continue," He said as he raised his head and paced the room.

"Plot is the arrangement of events on a stage or problems that need to be solve. Character is the agents of the plot and are the reasons for the events. Theme is the reason the playwright wrote the play. Language is the way the characters express themselves. Rhythm is the way the plot, character, and language are tied together, and spectacle is everything that is seen and heard on stage."

Mr. Hutton nodded his head, "Correct. Did you read the pages I assigned to you?" He arched his eyebrow as he looked at me.

"No, I did not Mr. Hutton. I was only able to get half way through until I fell asleep." I clenched my fist as he shook his head and gave a frustrated sigh.

"Miss Darling, I cannot allow this kind of slacking off in my teaching," He rubbed his forehead and his brows were knitted together.

"My apologies Mr. Hutton, but it's just I am not interested in the play you assigned," I looked at his face.

"And why is that?" He said with clenched teeth.

"Because the main character is not relatable at all. It makes it difficult to have sympathy for him when he keeps creating trouble for himself and his loved ones. He says he is for justice and love but then goes and steals from others and curses his true love Isabella. Plus, the imagery is very boring."

"Miss Darling, I assure you that _Tales of Zephyr _is a classic amongst other plays. This play is meant make you understand about hypocrisy and how it affects everyone. It has an acquired taste."

"Well, I don't have a taste for it and wish to read something else," I mumbled a little too loudly.

"Miss Darling!" He slammed his fist on the table. "I will not assign something else to you simply because you do not like it. It will teach you nothing about the theater and playwriting. You will read the pages I assign and that is final," He casted me an annoyed look.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes once he turned his back. This man is insufferable. He hates it when I argue with him over anything. He is ignorant about differing opinions and dislikes to be proven wrong. The man even scrunches up his face in disagreement.

Mr. Hutton is a stern man and is always red in the face. He is a widow and bore no children. There is graying brown hair upon his head, while his potbelly keeps growing larger every year. His tailored suits are of the most bizarre patterns and has gold-rimmed spectacles that rest upon his big, pointy noise. His heels click when he walks and is always in a rush and always looks at people with a look of disdain. Where my father found him, I don't know, but I assumed he had to look under a rock to find him.

About a month ago, I asked my father if I could have a tutor. He eyed me suspiciously and asked the reason. I told him that I was merely interested in the art of theater and want to hire someone for the job. He just wrinkled his brow and shook his head. He told me respectable ladies do not go off and become actresses who lead a life of sin and regret. My mother came to my aid and told him that it was only a hobby and that I only wanted to enhance my entertaining skills. After a brief few minutes, he agreed and hired Mr. Hutton.

"Now, where were we?" Mr. Hutton interjected before I could say a remark. I tapped my fingers to a piano tune I heard long ago.

"Miss Darling quit tapping your fingers on the table!" Mr. Hutton exclaimed. The sound of a clock chiming six rang around the room. The shrillness of the clock filled my ears. I could hear Mr. Hutton cursing quietly at the clock.

"There goes our blasted time! Well, Miss Darling, we shall continue our lecture on Friday. Good bye," Mr. Hutton said as he collected his papers into a neat pile and scurried into a hallway. "Come prepared or there will be consequences."

"I will, sir. Good bye," I slipped on my pale green coat and hat and hurried on my way.

I opened the door and the cool London air greeted my face. I proceeded to walk up the street towards the corner where the cabbies would be parked, waiting for someone to call upon them. The ground was wet beneath my heeled boots.

I was excited to go home for some strange reason. Something in my belly told me there was some great surprise awaiting for me. I waved my hand at an available cabby and told them my address and climbed inside the black carriage.

I casted my gaze towards the cloudy March sky. A bunch of little boys with dirty faces ran along the carriages as some sort of game. They all were wearing thin clothing that was covered in soot. One of them had a toothy grin and the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen.

I remembered when I saw a little boy dressed in a tunic completely made of leaves and vines. His hair was the reddest I have ever seen. His eyes were a brown color like the trunks of trees. His freckles dotted his face. I pondered my first meeting with him when I was twelve years old. When he first visited me, the sky was much like this. I even imagined I saw a figure zip across the sky. It brought a smile to my lips at all the wonderful adventures we had together on that secret island. It also made me sad that my brother Michael and I were the only ones to believe in him.

My other brother John thought that it was impractical to still believe in fairytales and other nonsense. He told me that it was foolish to still believe in a false illusion. Sometimes when I look into his eyes, there is the faint glow of hope that he isn't lying. John grew up to be a man of eighteen. He is currently studying at a Medical school to become a doctor. He has taken an apprenticeship from a doctor that needed an assistant and I hardly see him since he went off to school.

Michael on the other hand is fourteen years old and still believes in Peter Pan and the Lost Boys. He says he wants to see them again someday so he can document all the adventures of Peter. He has acquired an excellent talent as an artist. He tells me that when he is old enough, he wants to flee to Paris and go to art school. However, my father disagrees and wants Michael to join the business of being a banker. My mother encourages all of her children to follow their dreams.

"Miss, we are here," The cabby said.

I opened the door and got out of his carriage, "Thank you." I gave him his fare and proceeded to the steps of our home. The clicking of heels of the horses dashed away as I opened the door.

"Hello, I am home," I yelled as I took off my hat and coat. The welcoming warmth of nearby fires enveloped my cold skin.

Nana, our dog and nanny, ran towards me and gave me a welcoming bark.

"Hello, Nana. Where is everyone?" I bent down to pet her. In reply she parked again and turned and scampered towards the living room.

"Hello, is anyone home?"

"I am in the library Wendy!" My mother called out.

"Where is everyone?" I answered back.

"Your father and Michael went to the bank. He wanted to show Michael how the banking business works." I heard her say.

I walked up the staircase towards the library, to find my mother sitting in a comfortable arm chair as she embroiders something. The glow of the fire illuminated my mother's beautiful features. She had the most beautiful green eyes, while I inherited my father's dark blue eyes. Her mouth was small and her nose was refined with an aristocratic air. Her hair was a light golden brown just like mine, but hers was in waves, while mine were curls. The glow of her skin made her appear younger and healthy. When I entered the doorway, she looked up.

"Hello, my dear. How was your lesson?"

"Boring, every time I step into Mr. Hutton's home I have to refrain from groaning with despair. He makes theater seem unenjoyable," I sat on the small couch across from her.

"Why is that? You seemed so excited when you were first starting out," she looked up from her needlework.

"Well, I thought he was going to teach me how to act and write a play, but no! He assigns these ridiculous plays that no one has ever heard of and is teaching me everything else besides the acting and playwriting. Where did father find him anyway?"

All my mother did was shrug and shake her head. "Who knows where your father finds things. Sometimes I believe he makes up these bizarre characters," I couldn't help but smile at that comment.

"How was your day mother?" I asked her.

"It was all right, your Aunt Winifred visited me for tea today," her face was focused on her work. I could tell she was almost done with the needle.

I rolled my eyes at the mention of her name. Aunt Winifred has always been all about what is proper and what is immoral. Every time she visits us, she always looks at me with distaste. She was the reason why I had to move out of the nursery at only thirteen and have my own room. She thinks its indecent that I chose my studies over getting married.

"What did she say now?" I fiddled with my locket.

"We just talked about how John is becoming a fine man and Michael has an exquisite talent for drawing and painting."

"Of course she praises the boys but once she gets to me, she criticizes me and everything I do," I wrapped a curl around my finger.

"Wendy, she doesn't criticize you, she is just thinking of what is best for you," My mother looked at me with a look.

"What did she say then?" I arched my eyebrow at her.

My mother put down her work and sighed, "I told her about your new interest in the theatre and how much you enjoy going to see plays and singing."

"And?"

"She said she wishes you had this much interest in marrying a respectable man and raising a family."

I gave her a pointed look and said, "I told you so."

My mother gave a slight girlish giggle and got up from her seat. She walked over to me and sat down. "My dear, all she saying is that we are not upon this earth forever. We want to see you married with a beautiful family and being the happiest woman on earth."

I took her hand and held it to me, "I know mama, I will, just not right now."

She squeezed my hand and gave me a sincere smile as she tucked a stray curl behind my ear. The clock ticked and chimed 7 o' clock. "We must go get ready, your father is inviting a guest to dinner."

"Who is it?" I asked as she got up and walked towards the hallway.

"Someone from work," She exited the library and proceeded to her room. I couldn't help but notice a faint glimmer in her eye and smile of secrecy.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! Here's Chapter 2! BTW Happy Talk Like A Pirate Day! :) Hopefully this will leave you on your toes! Read andReview Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

The window was stained with the silvery raindrops that ran along the window. The sun's face disappeared in his cloak of dark grey and devoured the sun's rays as it made it's decent into the vast unknown. The glow of the lamps and chandeliers glittered into the descent of the evening. Light patter of rain could be heard as it faintly knocked on the streaked windows.

_Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat._

I was at my vanity getting ready. I didn't do much to my hair. I let loose curls frame my face as I re-braided my hair and pinned it into a chignon. I tied a pretty beaded silk headband on the crown on my head. The diamond studs on my ears sparkled under the dim light of the tulip lamps.

The reflection of my blue eyes stared back in anticipation and nervousness. My cheeks were touched with a slight pink tint. I gulped down the nerves as I got up to retrieve a nicer dinner dress than the one I am normally accustomed to wearing. I ran a hand over the beaded silk that matched my headband.

_Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat._

The crackle of the fire spewed a warmth that radiated through my body. The yellow orange glow casted a yellow tint to the ivory colored material that the beaded silk was onto of. The neckline scooped a crossed my shoulders and accentuated my slender neck. The beaded silk was a pinkish hues that brightened up my eyes. Each bead dazzled in the light that gave it the illusion that I was wearing the stars.I felt like an enchanted princess in this dress. A red velvet sash tied at the waist.

_Red__…__._

The sound of voices knocked me out of my trance. I shook my head and proceeded to dress. I slipped my dressing gown from my shoulders and hung it over my bed post. I looked at my window for a brief second. My eyes glazed over the clouds to catch a glimmer of stars. Some stars tried to poke their way from the hazy blankets but their light wasn't bright enough.

I tightened my corset just a bit, even though my waist was already tiny enough, but mother would've wanted me to._ It was proper_. Plus, guests were coming. After I squeezed my innards together, I slipped the beautiful gown onto me and I buttoned the dress and tied the sash. My fingers felt the softness of the velvet. The sleeves went to my forearm and were loose and thin. The beads dotted it like the night sky. I could hear my father's voice discussing something with my mother. Something about tonights dinner made this household tick with anxiousness.

As I was slipping on my shoes, the grandfather clock chimed eight thirty. It's dull shrill could be heard throughout the house. Nana barked to remind us that dinner would be ready soon. A loud knock was heard at the door.

I strode over to the mirror one last time and scanned my appearance for any thing out of order. I met my own anxious gaze as I smoothed my dress. My hand trailed along my neck.

'_It__'__s missing something,__'_ I thought as I examined my naked neck. I rummaged through my jewelry box and retrieved a simple silver chain with a circular pendent.

The pendent was an old coin that the boy with red hair gave to me. I lost the "kiss" that he gave me. I was devastated for days. I scoured my room for it with hope that I dropped it somewhere. It symbolized that he was real and that child-like version would always be apart of me. However, I woke to discover new necklace, but instead of an acorn, it was an old coin. The face of the monarch was blurred with erosion. It was a cherished gift.

"Wendy!"

My head turned towards the door as I quickly clasped the necklace in place and gave one final inspection.

"Wendy, darling please come down and greet our guests," I heard my mother call out.

"Coming!"

I turned off my lamp and gave one final look towards the sky. I exited my bedroom and closed the door. My pace seemed to match my nerves as I stood at the top of the stairs.

"Ah, Wendy you have finally graced us with your presence," My father said.

"I simply was holding out for dramatic effect," I replied with a smirk that was pulling at my lips. My hand gracefully held onto the glossy banister as I descended down to the two gentlemen and my parents.

"Wendy, you look radiant tonight," My mother said as I exited the final step of stairs.

A pair of brown eyes met my blue eyes.

"Hello, Miss Darling," The brown eyed man said to me. Well, he looked like he was in between of growing out of his boyhood and into a man.

"Hello, Mr…?" I offered my hand to take and stared at him.

"Mr. Cole, but you can call me Oliver," his slender fingers wrapped around my hand as his lips met my knuckles. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my parents and the other gentlemen exchanging joyful glances.

After a few brief moments of those brown eyes staring, my father cleared his throat.

"Wendy, this is Mr. James Lewis Cole, he is one of the banks most valuable clients and a dear friend of mine," My father told me with a proud smile.

A pang hummed through my heart as I heard the name. I graced the elder man with a quick smile and I extended my hand out for him to take. His hair was a dark grey, but look like an older version of Oliver. "How do you do Mr. Cole?"

"I am doing exceptionally well, Miss Darling," He kissed my hand and the corners of his mustache curled up into a smile. "George, she is a beauty like her mother."

I couldn't help but stifle a giggle as my mother blushed and smiled at the compliment.

We proceeded to the drawing room, where a fire was crackling in the fireplace. The glow of the fire basked everything in a yellow glow. It turned everything almost dreamlike, blurring the lamps into a haze. A tea tray was set onto the newly polished table.

My father sat into his maroon colored arm chair, "James, how is business?"

That pang in my heart ceased again. The red cheeked old man picked up a tea cup and took a sip, "It's going well George. Still helping the people with their money?" He took a sip.

As my father boasted about his latest achievements to his friend and my mother, I quietly sipped on my sweetened tea. I needed the extra caffeine to keep me awake through dinner and the rest of the night's activities. I tried to look anywhere in the room to keep myself occupied. I noticed Oliver's eyes would go occasionally to his father and then slowly back to me. I caught his gaze several times, each with a playful air to them.

_The eyes of a child._

The ring of a little bell indicated that dinner was served.

We all got up and proceeded to the white lace table. Their was a small bouquet of flowers at the center. Elegant candles were lit on either side of the bouquet. The food was served onto our finest china. Glimmering forks and knives were laid on either side with a cloth folded in a triangle.

There was joyful chatter amongst the adults as Oliver and I just sat there letting our eyes dance to a playful waltz. His brown eyes twinkled in the evening light. I would occasionally smile in embarrassment when his gaze lingered for too long.

"So, Oliver, I hear you are learning the ropes of your father's trade?" My father spoke up. Oliver tore his eyes away from me.

"Yes, I am sir. I hope I can live up to the family name," He gave a soft smile to my father.

His father clapped him on the back, "My son, you will do an excellent job!" I noticed the older man's cheeks were a bit redder than normal.

I took a sip of the wine and my mother turned her gaze towards Oliver, "My dear boy, do you have any future plans besides the bank business?"

"Well, I would like to do some traveling before I settle down."

"Oh, where to exactly? Our Wendy was talking to me about the same thing. She told me she didn't want to get married and just travel all over." My mother eyes gleamed in a smug way.

Before he opened his mouth, I couldn't help but allow the liquid of the wine go down my throat in a way that sputtered a cough from me.

"Miss Darling, are you all right?" Oliver asked in a worried way.

I shooed his hand away as the coughing receded. "I am quite all right, the wine just went down the wrong part of my throat." I gave a dry giggle, but his worried eyes scanned me.

My mother gave a little smile and returned to Oliver, "What were you saying?"

Oliver returned her gaze, "Well, I want to travel to Russia, Japan, France, Italy, Spain, and other parts of the globe."

"Interesting," I said. "Is there a purpose or are you simply want to go for pleasure?"

"I want to go to those places to enjoy life. To have adventures that I want to tell my grandchildren and keep souvenirs that have stories behind them."

"You want to live the life of a free man? With no ties or worries?" I said with a snicker.

Oliver gave me a look as if he wanted me to challenge him.

"It's easier said than done," I couldn't help but give a small smile.

"Wendy!" My father scolded me.

"No, no, it's all right Mr. Darling," Oliver put up a gentle hand to calm my father. "I like a woman who likes to give challenges." I felt my cheeks become warm.

"If she is only able to receive them as well," Oliver gave me a mischievous smile.

"And indeed she can," I retorted as I gave him a knowing look. "What is this challenge if I may ask?"

He gave off a slight chuckle, both our parents were holding their breath. He looked at me at me with wonderment, "To do what your heart desires."

I was taken aback by his statement. "Oliver, if you insist on mocking me, please refrain from doing it," I gave him an annoyed look.

"I wasn't mocking you."

"Then what were you doing?"

"I was giving you a challenge."

All I could do was nod in acceptance. I still had no idea if I liked him or not. Something else was plaguing my mind.

_Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat._

After dinner we retreated back to the drawing room for another cup of tea and more conversation about many other things. With the dreamlike haze, everything seemed to blur together. The voices of the inhabitants inside my house seemed to be muffled to me as I was slowly slipped to a dreamlike stupor. I could hear my mother's giggle and the laughter from the three men. Something was bubbling inside of me. Was it want? Need? It made my heart beat a little quicker and my skin felt hot.

We eventually said good night to our guests as the clock chimed eleven o' clock. My parents and I walked them to the door. The rain was still going but just in sprinkles.

"Thank you, George and Mrs. Darling for having my son and I over for dinner. It was such a pleasure and I am very glad I have made your acquaintance Miss Darling," The elder man said. His cheeks still had their jolly red tint.

"Pleasure," I smiled.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Darling for the wonderful meal." Oliver turned his brown eyed gaze towards me. "It was a pleasure to meet you Miss Darling. I hope we see more of each other soon."

"I hope so as well," I smiled and met his gaze. His eyes never left mine until he had to turn to walk through the door.

As my father and mother mumbled about something. I turned to them, "I know what you are doing. Please don't take heed."

"Wendy!" My father cried out. "We are doing this for your own good!"

I gave them a sneering look, "Well maybe you should reconsider what is good and what is evil." With that I turned and climbed the staircase in a quick annoyed pace.

"Ah! That blasted girl!" My father slammed his hand on the wall. I could hear my mother try to calm him down.

I slammed my door and took a deep breath. I walked over to my vanity and took off my earrings and undid my hair. The curls draped down my back and my shoulders. I undid the buttons on my dress and slipped it off. I undid the corset as well. I draped them over my chair. I quickly put on my nightdress as the warmth of the fire pricked my skin. I kept on my necklace and laid down and went to sleep with a very conflicted feeling.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys! I AM SO SORRY! I just got so busy and I was having an art block AND writer's block! UGH! I hope this short chapter will suffice. Hope you enjoy it! Read and Review!**

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><p>Chapter 3<p>

I felt the warm yellowed rays of the sun cast their way through the curtains and onto my face and body. I felt their warmth as it crawled all over my skin. My eyes squinted in annoyance of the sunlight. I wanted to go back into the dreamless sleep forever, but sadly, my body decided it was time to wake up. However, I would rather be in a sleeping state than in reality. It was somehow simpler that way.

"Wendy!" I heard my mother call out. Her delicate footsteps were trailing towards my door.

I mumbled and turned away from the door.

The door clicked open and I heard my mother give an exasperated sigh, "Wendy get up! It's ten o' clock in the morning!" I felt her come nearer to my bedside.

"Wendy! Please get up!" She tapped my sheet covered foot.

In reply I gave her a rough groan to signal her to leave me alone as I squinted my eyes shut. Her reply was to smack thigh and yank the covers away from my body. The cold morning air started to bite at my skin. I turned towards her and shot her an annoyed look.

"Hey! I was sleeping!" I wrapped my arms around my cold body. Loose strands of tangled curls framed my face. I shivered as I pulled my knees to my chest as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms to elicit warmth.

My mother put her hands on her hips and gave me a pointed look. The cold spring morning made her skin look nearly porcelain in contrast to the red dress she was wearing. Her light brown hair shimmered in the sun's rays, giving her an ethereal look.

"Wendy Angela Darling, do not raise your voice at me," She picked back up the covers and placed them back on my bed.

"Why did you wake me up then? I am perfectly capable of waking up on my own. Besides, this was my sleep in day," I rubbed my tired eyes and ran my fingers through my knotted curls as I blinked in the brightness of the sun.

"I know but you have a caller," My mother flashed me a smile.

I looked at her with an arched eyebrow. Curiosity was written all over my face, "Who?"

"Oliver Cole of course," She shook her head and gave a soft giggle. My mother's inner girl comes out in times like these.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. It's been a week since I was introduced to Oliver. Everyone is expecting a marriage announcement by the end of the month. However, I am going to try to delay that as long as possible.

"Oh, _him_," I sighed and looked at my hands in disdain.

My mother went from being a giggling girl to a ferocious lioness in a time span of three-seconds.

"Excuse me, but you should be grateful that he is taking time to get to know you more on your _own_ terms, Wendy" She sat opposite of me on the bed. "When I was your age, I didn't even like your father. But, he wanted to take all the time I wanted to get to know _me_." A soft smile appeared on her lips.

I sighed again and looked at my pleading mother, "Do I have to?"

She took my hand and gave a soft pat, "Yes, you do my dear."

I think she saw my anguished expression. "It pay off in the long run, you'll see," she said before she got up.

"Hurry now and make your bed, and get dressed. Oliver is coming to lunch and tea at 11 o' clock." She gave me one final smile and exited my room.

I flopped down on my bed and closed my eyes to secretly fall asleep again.

"Up Wendy!" I heard my mother shout.

"Alright! Alright!" I shouted back with an annoyed look as I got out of bed.

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><p>I came downstairs at around ten thirty. My hair brushed and braided with a bow at the tied strands. I was wearing a light blue dress with quarter length sleeves. A creamed white lace sash was tied at my waist as Peter's "kiss" was around my neck. I heard Nana bark at a laughing Michael.<p>

"Michael, please go change into cleaner clothes!" My mother asked him with a stern tone. When she talks like that I sometimes believe it is a demon possessing her.

My younger brother's boyish squeal could be heard as he was being chased by Nana. "Oh Nana, you can't get me! I am a Lost Boy! We never say die!"

"I am not asking you to die, I am asking you to change your clothes, now go on," My mother huffed in frustration as she walked my brother to his room. I couldn't help but giggle at my brother's reference to our red-haired friend.

My mother joined me in the hallway, "Wendy, you look stunning as ever. That color really suits you, you know," Her eyes scanned my appearance over to make sure nothing was out of place.

She looked at my pendent, "Are you sure about this necklace choice?" She raised a questionable eyebrow.

I took a small step back, "Yes, I am sure as ever." After a small nod she went to go check up on Michael.

I went to the parlor and saw our maid, Christine, and Nana picking up toys that lay scattered on the floor. I bent down to pick up a few and to put them in a big trunk.

"Oh no, that's fine miss, leave it to me and Nana to pick the young master's mess," She took my bundle from me and disposed of it in the trunk.

"Just trying to past the time, I suppose, before the wicked Prince arrives." I sat down on a nearby chair. Christine just gave a giggle with a shake of her head.

"Clever little name, miss, but I am sure he doesn't mean no harm," She finished putting all the toys in the trunk and closed the lid.

Christine was a year older than me. She was skinny and had beautiful freckled dots all over her skin. Her hair was a copper brown and the greenest eyes that look just like Peter's. She was the daughter of our cook, Mrs. Dash.

"What else am I supposed to call him? He doesn't know me and puts on a Prince-like mask in front of everyone. He needs to have his buttons pushed." I smoothed my dress out.

"Well, I am sure he is a nice fellow, that Mr. Cole." She shook her head as she scurried to the door. The clock ticked in rhythm with her steps. "Is anything else I can do for you miss?"

"No thank you, Christine," I replied. She turned around and headed to the kitchen.

The room was quiet except for the ticking clock. It matched the pace of my heartbeat.

_Tick. Ba-Bump. Tock. Ba-Bump._

I looked all over the room to silence this ticking heart beat.

_Tick. Ba-Bump. Tock. Ba-Bump_.

I got up from my chair and went over to the bookshelf. I tried to find the blank paged book. It was just a book that I bought to write poems and songs in. Once my eyes came upon the red spine with painted gold lined pages I took it from its holding and went over to a small desk. I opened the drawer and took one of papa's pens and opened the creaky book.

The front page had a little message.

_This Blank Book Belongs to:_

_Wendy Angela Darling_

I lightly tapped the pen on the desk and flipped through the pages. A few pages already had writing in them. Poems and little rhymes from about two years ago. With topics about the most randomness of things such as a dog dancing with a cat or flowers holding their own garden party.

I came upon a blank page. Some of the lines look faded from it spending its whole lifetime in a shelf. I tapped the pen on my chin in hopes of trying to think of something to quickly write about.

I began writing a silly little poem about "The Captain."

_Oh Captain, my Captain,_

_How are you such a codfish?_

_You shout with despair and curse the Pan__'__s name_

_While dancing to the ticking of death_

_Your coat as red as the blood you have spilt_

_With raven dark hair as dark as the darkness that overtakes you_

_Death is no person, but just an animal with razor sharp teeth_

_Oh Captain, my Captain_

_How can you be so possessed?_

I couldn't help but give a small giggle at this poem that made no sense. It was just an ode to the evil Captain Hook. I remember all the times that Peter has mocked the cruel man and how they both fought to their death and even tried to kill me once. I scanned over my complete poem. Peter would've laughed at this and probably even read to the subject himself!

After trying to think of something else to write, the clock chimed 11 o'clock. I gulped down my anxiousness and stood up. There was a knock on the front door. My mother shot out of the library and trekked down the staircase calling my name. I quickly put away the pen and close the book and tucked the chair in. I gave one final sigh.

"Duty calls."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys! This is the one of the chapters that will probably make you guys go "awwww." SO MUCH FLUFF! I LOVE reading your guy's reviews! They make me happy and motivate me to continue on! THANK YOU! Enjoy! Read and review!**

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><p>Chapter 4<p>

My mother called out from the other room, "Wendy, could you please answer that?"

I grumbled and made a quick inspection of my hair and dress, I proceeded to open the door. The cold outside wind flooded the front hallway of my warm home making me shudder a bit. I was greeted by the same pair of brown eyes that I saw a week ago. It made me suck in a breath in awe.

_Ba- Bump. Ba- Bump._

"Miss Darling," Oliver said as he gazed back in awe.

"Oliver," I couldn't help but blush.

After we stood there for a few more seconds, the chilling spring wind woke the both of us up from our staring.

_Ba- Bump. Ba- Bump._

"Please come in, the wind is going to give us a cold," I smiled through my teeth as I stepped out of the way to let him in. I quickly closed the door. I glanced at the small mirror and noticed my cheeks were tinted pink.

"Your house still looks as lovely as I remembered it," Oliver said as he took off his coat and hat.

"Well, nothing has changed really. Here, let me hang up your coat," I offered my hands out to him.

"Oh it's all right, Miss Darling. I can do it myself," Oliver proceeded to hang his hat and coat on the hat and coat rack.

_He is getting to know you on your own terms, _my mother's voice echoed through my thoughts.

"You are the guest and I am the hostess," I took his hat and coat from him. "And, please call me Wendy. All my friends call me by my first name." I said as I hung up the articles of clothing on the hat and coat rack.

"Oh really, why not go by 'Miss Darling?'" He chuckled.

"The title makes me feel grown up, and well, I don't want to grow up. I want to maintain my childlike playfulness." I said with authority.

"Well, that's good. You know, that sounds exactly like a story I heard as a boy. It was called 'The Boy Who Never Grew Up.'" He smiled.

At the mention of Peter's story I couldn't help but look back at Oliver and smile. "I heard the same one as a girl and still enjoy it to this day."

"Well, hello, Oliver!" My mother greeted Oliver with a big smile and open arms. Something tells me that my mother was eavesdropping on our conversation. She can be a she-devil sometimes.

After, Oliver and my mother greeted one another, we all proceeded to the toy-less parlor. A plate full of little sandwiches and biscuits were situated next to the piping hot tea to warm our cold bodies.

"So, Oliver how is your father?" My mother asked after a sip of tea.

He smiled and set down his tea cup in the saucer, "He is doing well, he is leaving for Amsterdam in a few weeks."

I noticed my stomach fluttered with butterflies when I noticed his eyes trailing over to me. He smiled at as took another sip of his tea. His lips formed perfectly against the brim of the porcelain cup.

_Why am I thinking of his lips! _ I thought and averted my eyes somewhere else while my cheeks flamed pink.

"I've heard Dutch chocolate is the best. You'll have to tell me how it is," I blurted out.

His lips formed into a smile. "Well, Wendy," He began. I saw my mother give a victorious smile while she took a small bite of a biscuit. Her eyes were practically screaming, _He called you by your first name! Woo!_

"Yes?" I set down my tea cup.

He looked perplexed for a moment and then shook his head, "Never mind, the notion is too forward." His cheeks turned a slight pink.

I arched my eyebrow and gave him a questioning look, "What was it you were going to say?"

He looked embarrassed. My heart was racing. _Please don__'__t let it be a marriage proposal! Please don__'__t let it be a marriage proposal! _I silently pleaded in my head.

"Come on what is it, Oliver?" I smiled through gritted teeth. I felt my grip on the tea cup handle tighten to almost the point of breaking it.

"Well, I haven't known you for very long, so this may come off as too forward," He began again. My mother was on the edge of her seat in anticipation.

"Yes, go on," I sounded grim without meaning to.

"Would you go to Amsterdam with me?" He blurted out.

"What?" I let my mouth hang open for a moment but then closed it and gulped down the relief that was going through my body. My mother gave me look. Her said _See! Told you! On YOUR own terms! _

"Well, my sister Melody, is coming along and I thought it would be the best if you two would meet and spend time together. You will adore her!" Oliver explained.

I've heard of Melody Cole. The esteemed socialite of every ball and dinner party. She has a bubbly air to her that makes everyone gravitate towards her. She can be bold and unafraid and wear the most up to date dress in the fashion trend. She had the most silkiest of dark hair with glowing hazel eyes and a flawless complexion. Lots of girls and women envied her and strayed away from her and kept a terse eye on their husbands and suitors. I've seen her, but never had the gall to go up and introduce myself.

"I don't know what to say," I said. _Of course you do! Just say no! You have your theatre lessons and prefer to stay in London away from__… _I said in my mind, but I couldn't finish the real reason. I really didn't know the reason why.

"Pardon me Ma'am," Christine peeped in the entrance. All of our eyes averted from me to Christine.

"Yes?" My mother answered.

"There is a message for you and it reads urgent."

"I'll go read it right away, thank you Christine," My mother answered back and set down her tea cup on the table. "I'll be right back, I'll leave you two to discuss the decision."

I looked up at my mother's form and gave her pleading eyes to silently tell her not to leave, but she just ignored my glance and closed the double doors for privacy of our discussion.

_Blasted woman! _ I thought.

I didn't noticed Oliver get up from his seat as he went over to the writing desk in the corner. I looked up from my deep thought and saw him about to open and read my writing journal.

"Don't read that!" I said as I quickly got up and practically sprinted to his side.

"Why not?" He asked as he flipped through the pages with a grin spread across his lips. I snatched the blank book from his hands and held it close to me.

"I don't know if you know this, but in civilized society, people ask first if they could look through their journals!" I glared at him.

"All right, it was rude of me to look through it without permission, but it is rather funny. Did you write those poems?" His silly grin never faltered from his mouth.

I looked between him and the book in my grasp with a decisive eye. Unsure if I want to admit to his question.

"Yes, I did. But, I wrote them in my girlhood." I admitted a flash of pink colored my cheeks.

Oliver just giggled some more, as if someone told him a very funny joke.

"It's not funny!" My eyes shot daggers at him. I gave his arm a small slap to him I was not amused.

"I-I'm sorry, I meant no offense by laughing." He rubbed the spot where I hit him. Why the heck was he still smiling? "It's just that those poems are very good. They remind me of Lewis Carroll's, _Alice in Wonderland_."

My facial expression softened from annoyed to shock and embarrassment. "Oh, well they were sort of influenced from his works. But, it was just an idea I had to write down." I gave him an apologetic smile.

"Have you considered writing as a hobby?" He asked me. I took a step back to give myself some room to breathe. _He is impressed by these poems?! Who the hell is he?!_

"Well, right now I am taking lessons to learn how to playwright." That warmth on my cheeks returned.

"You want to be a playwright?" He looked at me with interest and curiosity.

"Yes, and an actress. Something about the stage, just gives me a rush that I can never recreate with any other hobby, besides writing," I flashed him a small smile. What the devil is taking my mother so long.

"Well, Well, Wendy you are full of surprises." He returned my smile. "I get that same feeling with riding a horse or sailing." We walked back over to our seats and sat back down.

_Ba- Bump. Ba- Bump._

"You know as a little boy, I always wanted to be a sailor."

I couldn't help but giggle a little. "You a sailor?"

He chuckled in return, "I know, silly right. But I feeling the salty air and the cool ocean spray."

"It's not silly. How about this when we are in Amsterdam, you take me out to sea and I'll let you read some of my other works. Deal?" I offered my hand out.

He gave me a soft smile, "Deal," He shook my hand. "I guess we are both full of surprises."

"Indeed we are," I noticed are hands touched for too long. I slowly retreat my hand back to the book. Just then, my mother burst through the doors with a pleasant smile. That same feeling that she eavesdropped occurred again.

"I have the best of news!" My mother exclaimed.

"What is it?" I stood up. Oliver stood up as well.

"Your brother, John, is coming home for a visit!" My mother squealed.

"Oh my goodness!" I squealed with delight and hugged my mother.

The three of us rejoiced at the wonderful news. My mother and I taking turns on describing John to Oliver. He nodded and smiled. The clock chimed 1:30pm.

"Oh I have to go meet my father at the bank," Oliver said.

"Oh that's a shame, well, I hope you had a good time with us Darling Ladies," My mother replied.

"I had a wonderful time," Oliver replied with his brown eyes glancing at me. "I learned new things today that are very valuable," He smiled.

My mother didn't enquire what those things were because she probably already knew.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Darling," He kissed my mother's hand after he put his coat on.

"Goodbye, Wendy," He kissed my hand. His soft lips lingering as his brown orbs stared at my blue ones.

_The eyes of a child._

"I'll be seeing you in a few weeks," He told me. I nodded in reply and gave a soft smile.

After my mother closed the door she turned to me with the biggest smile I've ever seen her give.

"Oh my goodness! A lot to take in one day! Your brother visiting and you being swooped off to Amsterdam!" I could see tears brimming her eyes.

"Calm down, mama! I am just going as his sister's companion. Nothing more, nothing less." I grasped her by her shoulders.

She just gave me a wink and a knowing smile. "You keep telling yourself that." She glided by me up to the staircase. I couldn't help but give a quizzical look as my eyes followed her form up the stairs.


End file.
